


Breaking Apart

by JustMakeLeftTurns



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, concerned scarab, worried scarab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 16:04:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/776104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustMakeLeftTurns/pseuds/JustMakeLeftTurns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime’s always been a little bit depressed. After the incident with the Reach, what little sanity he has left breaks. The scarab does its best to help. Jaime does his best to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Apart

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.

He’d always been a bit depressed. He took care of himself and his younger sister while he parents worked. He didn’t have anything against them – far from it. They couldn’t help being busy all the time. And, with both of them taking on more hours, they couldn’t help being too tired to talk on most days. Jaime still loved his parents, and they loved him. Money was tight. That was all.

But just as his parents couldn’t help working, Jaime couldn’t help feeling depressed. He had one friend, and the other kids teased them. He knew that boys don’t cry, so he didn’t – especially not in front of Tye or his family. He was the man of the house until his father got home. He was the stable one. The rock. His sister, and occasionally his mother, both depended on him. And Tye didn’t appear to be affected by the teasing, so Jaime never brought up his own feelings about it.

The teasing steadily got worse until it included hurtful words and taunts. Eventually, it wasn’t just verbal anymore. Jaime found himself pushed into lockers more often than not. Food was sometimes dumped on him during lunch. A few guys got punches in. Jaime tried fighting back once, but it only resulted in more pain. So he kept quiet. No one – especially not his family – had to know. Tye had enough problems of his own, so he didn’t have to know, either. After a while, Jaime got used to it. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

When the scarab first attached itself to his spine, Jaime had freaked out – what kid wouldn’t? He was scared of the scarab, especially when it told him to “eliminate the threats” – the bullies. Eventually, Jaime realized that the scarab at least somewhat cared for his well-being – and they even learned to more or less work together. Jaime became excited. Maybe he could be a hero! Be someone others looked up to! Help people, save the world!

But he screwed it up. He screwed it up, big time. Not only did the scarab occasionally take control of the armor from time to time, but simply talking to the scarab made him seem crazy. His teammates avoided him like the plague for seemingly talking to himself. Jaime desperately wanted to tell them that the scarab talked back but feared that would only make him seem even crazier. And then the whole “on mode” thing that Bart told him, and then he told everyone else, about – Jaime feared for the earth and for himself. He didn’t want to completely lose control. No matter what the scarab told him, Jaime refused to listen. He needed to remove it.

And that’s how he screwed it up. In trying to prevent himself from going “on mode,” Green Beetle had given the scarab control – and it wasn’t until afterwards that Jaime realized the scarab was never on mode. But he’d still been stuck – a prisoner of his own body – for two whole months. And, even after that, no one – not one person – had asked him if he was okay. Instead, they treated him with caution and distrust, as if it was his fault – and, in a way, it was. But for two months – _two months_ – he’d been scared and alone, save for the scarab and the Reach ambassador. He’d hidden his fear behind angry shouts – “Give me back my body!” – then blind threats – “Just wait until the Team finds out!” – then witty remarks – “I look like the Queen of England … Now I’m Peter Pan.” No one knew how horrifying and terrifying it was to be trapped in your own body, your own mind, with no one except your enemy able to hear your true voice.

As much as Jaime wanted to be able to say he was fine, he wasn’t. After regaining control of his body, he felt lower than ever. In recent weeks, he’d been much more reckless in fights than ever before. He barely survived one attack while mercilessly beating the enemy in another – all the while never caring about what was happening around him. Once, the scarab had to forcibly take control of the armor to get Jaime out of the way from a lethal attack. The scarab then proceeded to, for lack of a better term, lecture Jaime about battle strategies and how the teen was recklessly throwing his life away with each stupid decision he made.

Jaime found that the scarab spoke a lot about stupid decisions lately. The scarab had complained that Jaime’s tactics were ineffective and foolish, clouded by useless human emotions. It was the scarab that wanted him to put all he had into the fight, Jaime protested on one occasion. The scarab had replied,

_But not at the expense of your fragile life, Jaime Reyes._

Jaime despised how the scarab could hear his thoughts and detect chemical changes in his body. When he laid in bed late at night, thinking about falling asleep and never waking up, the scarab interrupted his thoughts, calling his thought process reckless and ineffective for the future. When he cooked dinner for his family and his gaze lingered a few seconds too long on the knife in his hands, and his pulse and adrenaline increased a little too much when the knife slipped and cut his finger, drawing some blood – the scarab had informed Jaime of the inappropriate response his body was making and had told the teen, a bit hesitantly – could an alien AI scarab hesitate? –

_You are not in your right mind, Jaime Reyes. Causing physical harm to your body results in a decrease of focus for your surroundings. Suggested solution: return the weapon to its place or allow me to take control so that you will not injure yourself further._

This wasn’t the last time the scarab had broken into his thoughts. There was one time that Jaime was falling from a great altitude after being shot at to the point of the armor retracting – how high he was falling from, he wasn’t sure, but high enough that the landing would be fatal. Jaime, seeing the ground get closer and closer, felt no panic, only peace and perhaps a bit of yearning. He was fully prepared to die. He tried to fight against the scarab, which was attempting to take control, but he ultimately lost. The scarab flew them both to safety. It called Jaime a fool and that his death would do no good for anyone.

For another week or two, the scarab resorted to taking control of the armor whenever Jaime even so much as looked at the ocean too long or rubbed his finger ever-so-gently on his butter knife. On a particular bad day, when Jaime’s thoughts consisted of death and all the ways he could die, the scarab had taken control of the armor and refused to move from the teen’s bed, no matter how much Jaime complained about school and the Team, or how much Jaime pleaded with the scarab to let him die, that he couldn’t live anymore. The scarab’s response for nearly sixteen hours of “Jaime lockdown,” as the teen bitterly called it, was:

_Cease these reckless thoughts and I will hand over control to you._

Needless to say, it took a long time for Jaime to convince the scarab that he wasn’t going to do anything reckless anytime soon.

Yet Jaime continued to be a danger to himself and others while in battle. Nightwing decided enough was enough and kicked the teen off the team the previous day. Jaime, upon returning to his empty house, went into a blind rage and trashed his bedroom. He smashed his mirror and picture frames, glass littering his floor and blood dripping from his arms. He fought against the scarab’s attempt to control him, ignored its voice telling him to stop, telling him to calm down.

It wasn’t until Jaime intentionally slashed his arm with a glass shard that the scarab took over. The cuts were many, the one he’d done on purpose was deep. He could feel his arms bleeding underneath his armor.

_Your wounds are bleeding out too quickly. You must call someone for immediate assistance._

Jaime had always found it odd that the scarab couldn’t take control of Jaime’s mouth. Now, he was thankful for this. He could die now, and the scarab couldn’t do anything to stop it. Jaime found himself laughing. He’d outsmarted an alien artificial intelligence attached to his spine. He’d finally gotten a fatal wound in.

Even though the scarab kept his body upright, Jaime felt his mind go fuzzy. Dark spots flooded his vision.

_Jaime Reyes, you must stay conscious! Blood levels are decreasing at an alarming speed._

Jaime closed his eyes, a weak smirk on his lips. “Not this time, ese.” And with that, he allowed himself to black out.

How was he to know that the scarab could gain complete control over him – including his head – while he was unconscious? Jaime discovered this when he woke up that afternoon in a medical room run by the Justice League. His arms were bandaged. He could feel his heartbeat. He was alive. Tears of frustration and pain filled his eyes. He tried to get out of the bed, only to find that he was strapped down. He whined. He just wanted to die. Was that too much to ask?

_The straps are there for your own protection, Jaime Reyes. You need rest._

Another two hours of sleep and an argument with his scarab later, Jaime discovered that the scarab had taken full control of his body and had contacted Bart about his condition. Bart had told Nightwing, who had brought Jaime to the medical room. And now Jaime was on suicide watch, only this time, it wasn’t just the scarab watching.

Jaime did his best to give the scarab the silent treatment, but that only worked for so long since it is attached to the teen. Jaime found himself crying silently, wishing for death, wishing the scarab would leave him alone and let him die – there were surely better people who could be the Blue Beetle. Surely the scarab would want someone older and more experienced with fighting.

_You are mistaken, Jaime Reyes. I would not have attached myself to you if I did not see you fit._

Jaime laid in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling, the scarab his only companion after he drove away the rest of the Team. He didn’t understand why the scarab cared, or how the scarab was even capable of caring.

_I am more complex than you realize. One thing I have learned from being on this planet for so many years is that human life is valuable. Your life is valuable to your teammates, to yourself, and to me. I will not allow you to throw your life away._

Jaime half-laughed, half-sobbed.

“Maybe you can teach me more about human life being valuable, hermano, because it looks like I never learned that lesson.”

_I will teach you, Jaime Reyes, and so will your friends. Your life is more valuable than you believe._


End file.
